Walking in Ada´s Boots
by Alinah
Summary: [Complete] When little Estel decides to play a trick on his elven brothers and things go wrong, he finds out that his Ada is there for him - even when he finds himself utterly alone.


Hi there!

This tiny story was written in reaction to a challenge on the MC group. Thanks to San for her quick editing!

Those of you waiting for the conclusion of "The Beckoning", please don´t kill me for posting this first. You´ll get your new chapter tomorrow. This little story just "attacked" me today and I thought I´d share it with you.

Please be so kind and leave a review.

Enjoy and thanks for reading!

Alinah

Rating: G

Disclaimer: Not mine

Walking in Ada´s boots

Walking in his Ada´s boots was more difficult than Estel had imagined, but he trudged on nonetheless. And he did so with a wide smile upon his flushed face. He had thought this prank up long and hard and he had prepared it better than any of his numerous tricks before. To tell the truth, people had been less observant in the past few days. Visitors were expected to arrive and as usual, Estel´s elven father was careful to prepare what he would call "a suitable welcome". To Estel, that spelled boredom. But the food that was being prepared looked like it would be worth the talks that were sure to accompany it.

Even though his elven family would still try to spend time with him, he had repeatedly been told to move to the kitchens where there would always be someone to keep an eye on him. He hated being "looked after" in this fashion. Even though he was not at all opposed to helping out now and then, especially when there where cake tins to be relieved of the dough that got stuck in them, it grew increasingly boring to watch dish after dish being prepared. Therefore, Estel had set his mind to work. And it had not disappointed him.

Whatever the disadvantages of the upcoming visit, the little human had used everybody´s preoccupation to his own ends. As much as he hated being overlooked, it had made it rather easy to sneak into his Ada´s room and borrow a pair of fine leather boots and a hand-written book on herbs. Estel still felt slightly bad about having taken the book. He knew how everybody cared about them and felt quite awed himself by the seemingly endless pages filled with stories he loved and secrets he did not understand. Not yet. To Estel, books possessed a soul of their own and he was a little frightful to anger this particular volume.

Therefore, he had taken his time to explain to the book that this had been a theft out of need, not greed. Surely it would understand that. This was more of a small booklet, really, that was dwarfed by the huge works on history that lined his Ada´s study. And he was dwarfed by the elves around him. Little people needed to stick together. And they needed to be clever to claim the attention they deserved, just like this book was clever on plants. And besides, his wonderful plan would never work if his elven twin brothers did not accept the message he had to leave them as genuine. So he had carefully copied the words he needed, repeatedly excusing himself to the book as he worked.

Estel stopped and took a deep breath of the autumn air. He felt like a giant. Never mind that he was only seven years old and not even tall enough to mount his horse without pulling himself up by the stirrup. It was deeds that made people tall, or so his Ada had taught him. And this deed would be talked about for years to come. Nay, for centuries! The prank was as good as a success now that he had left the fake message in the twin´s room and stalked his way out of Imladris without being seen. The tracks he left in his father´s boots were almost invisible to his eyes, but he knew Elladan and Elrohir would have no problem following them. And at the end of the trail, there would be a nice surprise.

Estel snickered quietly as he moved on. The thought of his brothers´ faces when he jumped out at them at the lake, dumping onto their heads the sticky red color he had mixed from berries and egg-white, lifted his heart to no end. He just wished that it was as simple to lift his legs. They were getting heavy in the too-big boots which he had stuffed with countless socks to make them stay on his feet. It was getting slightly cold, too. Not at his feet, of course, those were as cozy as a bear in his den. The problem was that the rest of him was so much bigger than his feet. Even when he concentrated on his sweating toes his could still feel the chill bite his nose. It was just not fair.

Feeling himself drift into a slightly less cheerful mood, Estel pondered upon other things that seemed unfair to him. Like the fact that he was not half as nimble as the elves. Whenever he played catch with Elladan and actually managed to finally trap his oldest brother, the victory was tinged with the growing suspicion that the tall elf had just let him win. Whenever he raced Elrohir on his horse down by the river´s edge, he would sense the younger twin hold back his steed to allow little Estel to match his pace. No, it was time for a true victory! One that would be fairly won and to be enjoyed without doubts.

A sharp gust of wind whipped across the boy´s face and swept aside his reverie. Estel looked up to find that it had begun to snow. Tiny, sparkling flakes danced out of the darkening sky that had taken on the color of a teapot´s bottom. Dirty grey. Even though there should be several hours of light left, the clouds seemed to press the heavens down upon him as he watched. Not long and they would get caught amongst the branches that stretched to meet them. Shivering, Estel turned and looked back towards Imladris. He could still make out its light walls amongst the trees. Suddenly, the thought of staying inside the kitchens and sneaking treats did not seem all too boring anymore. And besides, he would break another rule if he moved on. His Ada had given him strict instructions to return home from his explorations of the forest whenever the weather changed.

Wondering what to do, Estel thought back to a story Elladan had once told him when he had been reluctant to go to sleep one night. It had been about a young warrior who sought Destiny and was told by a wise woman to travel down a forest path to meet it. The warrior had done so eagerly, but then he had come upon a fork in the road. To one side, the way had remained broad and inviting, with flowers lining it and sun flooding across the level ground as it led straight on. To the other side, however, the path had been dark and dreary, with crooks that did not allow the warrior to even see more than a couple of paces. The warrior had chosen the darker road to follow.

Much to Estel´s surprise, Elladan had approved of this foolish action. The boy had argued that it would be really easy to get into trouble on the dark path, if only because one tripped and had to explain to one´s Ada why this new tunic had not lasted longer than one day, either. Elladan had laughed his light, pearly laughter at this and explained that Destiny would never await a warrior in open light, but wanted to be searched for in dark places. Estel had not questioned on further, but he imagined this Destiny to be an immensely weird person – and probably an ugly one, too.

Still, he had understood one thing that the story had meant to tell him. Sometimes it was right risking one´s Ada´s scorn if the prize was worth it. And Estel ached for a victory that was truly his own. With a sigh, he turned into the increasing wind and headed further up the path.

....................................................................

He would never remember how the bearable drizzle had turned into a snowstorm. Estel just knew that he now walked within a howling cocoon of biting cold. He had pulled his light cloak tightly around his shivering frame but it was of little use against the onslaught. He had long dropped the bag with the paint meant for the twins in order to shave his numbing hands beneath his armpits. And he had long abandoned the plan to reach the lake. Rather, he was desperately trying to find home again.

Stopping for a moment, Estel forced his head up and pried his eyelids apart. They were incredibly heavy and beginning to clog shut with the snowflakes that had collected on them only to freeze into what felt like icicles. With an effort, the boy kept his panic at bay and scanned the trees next to him for anything he might recognize them by. He had always considered the trees his friends and it had never been difficult for him to tell them apart, for their gnarled barks formed faces that to him were as individual as that of any elf. Today, though, his friends had pulled on white masks that hid them from his gaze.

Suddenly, he felt utterly alone.

Tears sprang to his eyes and began to crawl down his cheeks, leaving warm trails that would swiftly be attacked by the merciless wind. But he could not stop. He would not stop. Bowing his head again, he trudged on blindly, hoping against hope that the Valar would guide him. They had saved him once before, delivering him into the welcoming arms of the elves. Lord Elrond had said so repeatedly, with a light smile on his face that had been so warm Estel thought he could feel its heat reach out to him from his memory. How he longed for his Ada now!

Looking down as he walked, he watched the much-too-big boots plough through the powdery snow. They were fine boots, made of a light leather. His Ada wore them in weather such as this, but there was no fur to line them. Estel knew well that the cold bore little danger on the elves. The tears returned at the unfairness of it all, at the suffering that he had brought upon himself only because he was a human wanting to best the elves. But even as he cried, his tears being whipped away and swallowed by the storm, he began to concentrate on his feet again and on the tiny glimpse of warmth that remained there. The more he did, the less tears fell.

His lips formed words now, his eyes never leaving the source of his hope. "Tego mbar nin" [Bring me home] he whispered, all his strength and will going into the plea, "tego mbar nin." Surely, his Ada´s boots would not fail him.

..........................................................................

Haldir squinted against the snowflakes, judging how far they had left to ride. He alone had been to Imladris before, his two brothers coming with him for the first time, and so it was him they depended on as a guide. "We should be there within the hour", he declared, raising his voice to carry above the howl of the storm.

Rumil and Orophin nodded quietly and waited for Haldir to take the lead again. They were weary of a journey that had put them through more hardships than they had expected, including a rather unpleasant encounter with orcs, and this weather that clogged their senses and slowed the horses had done nothing to lighten their mood. The prospect to reach Imladris soon, however, brightened their spirits and they whispered words of encouragement to the steeds, promising the warmth and food were near.

Haldir did not let the closeness of the Last Homely House lull his senses. More than ever, he was on the alert. He was sure that Lord Elrond´s might kept foul creatures from this realm, but even Vilya´s presence would not stop a weakened tree from toppling beneath the weight of wind and snow. He tensed, therefore, when he caught movement in the undergrowth and swiftly signalled his brothers to halt. Leaning down the neck of his horse, he finally made out a tiny shape stumbling rather clumsily through the snow mere paces beside the barely visible path.

The snow that stuck to the cloak had made it blend in with the storm so perfectly that even Haldir´s sharp eyes might have missed it had he not been so observant. Now that he had the small form firmly in his gaze, he could sense the pain behind the movements. Dismounting swiftly, the elf reached the slim figure and reached out a hand to touch its shoulder.

At first he received no reaction at all, and when he tightened his grip the from stumbled, not even reaching out with its hand to break the fall. Haldir was quick to catch the cloak and its light contents and lift it into his arms. His brothers had appeared at his side by now and Orophin reached out to gently brush the snow from the small face to reveal the pale features of a little boy. His lips had turned a sickly shape of blue and his breath was coming in laboured heaves.

"It´s a human child", Rumil exclaimed in wonder, trailing the round ears that were revealed when the wind pushed the curly dark hair aside. A frown appeared on his face when he touched the blue lips. "Is it supposed to be that color?" Haldir shook his head with a sigh. He knew that his youngest brother had rarely left their home in Lothlorien and shared most of its inhabitants need for reclusion. Thus, he had not yet been in close contact with humans whilst as Marchwarden, Haldir did meet the mortals infrequently. "No", he explained softly, turning his back to the wind to shield the child, "the boy is not well. The cold makes him ill. We shall make haste to reach Imladris so that Lord Elrond can aid him."

Mounting their horses again, the three brothers now pushed their on with as much speed as they dared in the storm. Haldir had taken the child into his arms, holding it close as he rode. They had all shed their travelling cloaks to wrap them around the boy for warmth, and the elf could feel him beginning to stir. He was listening closely, ready to calm the little one should he wake in fear, when suddenly Rumil exclaimed: "There are voices in the air! Listen!"

And the Haldir heard it too, elven voices that called out one word again and again: "Estel!" The brothers looked at each other in confusion. "Why would they ask for hope?" Orophin asked a little uneasily, "there does not seem any fell creature in these woods." Haldir could only shrug. "We shall have to ask them", he declared, and beginning to shout themselves, the Lorien elves followed the desperate calls.

It did not take long for a group of elves to emerge from the dancing flakes, and Haldir was surprised to see Lord Elrond among them. He knew the halfelf as a calm and considerate leader and was completely taken aback when the older elf ran up to him, never uttering a word of greeting, to pull the waking child from his arms.

"Estel?" Elrond urgently touched his son´s face, willing those closed eyes to open. "Please, ion-nin, look at me." To his endless relief the boy responded, eyelashes fluttering to reveal dazed grey eyes. "Ada?" The voice was little above a whisper, but a smile graced the blue lips. "Your boots brought me home." His eyes widening, Elrond looked towards the child´s feet and then returned the smile. "Of course they did. But not before your theft of them let your brothers a fine hunt after what the thought was me."

Estel´s smile widened at that. He sighed and allowed his Ada to hold him close, bathing in the elf´s protection. He barely heard the words of thanks and apology that were directed at the baffled guests. He did not hear their courteous replies. He just felt the warmth from his feet spread from his feet to his heart, warming him.

The end


End file.
